Wonder Lust
by evilpinkpen
Summary: Once a Guardian, always a Guardian.
1. tulips

A/N: So, this would be Yet Another Random Ridiculous Crossover Bunny (TM) that won't go away and let me work on "real" writing. It therefore must be exorcised. I make no promises that this endeavor will ever evolve beyond the roughly chronological drabble stage into an actual story. Actually, as a genuine evilpinkpen inc. production, it's far more likely to be discontinued without notice and without resolution, possibly immediately after posting. (I know. I should have gone into advertising instead, right?) Anyway, caveat emptor. And, if I haven't scared you off, enjoy!

P.S. If this does continue for any length of time, there will be slash. Heads up. (Hm. In retrospect, that is such a bad pun…)

-1-

Jack really didn't think that Tooth was all that mad about the bar fight. Okay, so maybe he didn't need to make _quite_ that big a scene to get Pike's attention. But Tooth of all people should know that subtle wasn't really in his vocabulary. Subtle was _boring_.

Besides, the whole boob-grabbing bit was a genuine accident – albeit one that he'd capitalized on shamelessly. Hey, who could blame him? Touching and being touched was still a thrill for him, even after twenty-five years in his new body, and Tooth's human form was gorgeous. That and the flicker of honest amusement in her eyes as she shoved him afterward made it totally worthwhile.

It had been far too brief though, that momentary evidence of happiness. The bite in her teasing, the brittleness in her laugh, worried him more than he wanted to admit. It was clear that the breakup had been much harder on her than she'd led him to believe. That was Not Okay. Tooth, Sandy, and North were his family. His only family, so far as he was concerned, as his human family had been most conspicuous in its absence.

Hence his grim contemplation of the starship that, according to the Man in the Moon, would become the home of his Guardians as their mission led them to the stars. _All_ of the Guardians, including a certain self-centered, short-tempered, sharp-tongued rabbit whom Jack dearly wanted to skin alive at the moment.

Jack Frost, now Jim Kirk, sighed and shifted his cycle into gear to ride toward his destiny, fully prepared to inaugurate their Next Great Adventure with a little friendly, collegial bloodshed.

Damn the Man in the Moon, anyway.


	2. whiteout

-2-

E. Aster Bunnymund, now more commonly known as Leonard H. McCoy, MD – and no, he didn't get any say in that, thanks very much – was not a big fan of flying. Magic sleigh, ion-propelled shuttle, whatever, didn't matter. They all made for the same very messy result if you crashed and burned. And though much harder than the average human to kill, the Guardians' new forms were not immortal. Bunny had researched this point extensively via the medical records that each Guardian had begun sending him after they reached adulthood, ensuring that he was thoroughly familiar with their abilities and limitations, and able to predict with considerable accuracy the probable severity of any injury and the requirements and speed of recovery.

It was, after all, his new job. Even if a certain suicidally stupid snowflake seemed determined to carry out his own, considerably less scientific, exploration of the limits of their new mortality.

Frostbitten idiot.

Yeah, Bunny definitely wasn't a big fan of flying. He wasn't much of a fan of Jack Frost, either – the two of them had settled into a policy of more-or-less cordial mutual avoidance, after the first century or so. Much as it shamed him to admit, at the moment he also wasn't much of a fan of his ex-wife, also known as Nyota Uhura, also known as the Tooth Fairy. And now he was about to face all three of them. At the same time.

The only saving grace was that, given his spectacular indifference to public opinion, he didn't have to do it sober.

Bunny didn't drink much, as a general rule. His human father had grown increasingly fond of the bottle over the years. The tendency had only made Dr. McCoy, Sr. inversely less fond of his quick, sullen son with the too-knowing eyes. But, if he could just make it through this trip – even if he only made it with a protective cocoon of whiskey and self-loathing – then maybe tomorrow he could pull himself together and get back to doing his job. The job that he loved and was damned good at, despite the fact that it wasn't what he'd signed up for.

While he was at it, maybe he'd also get back to believing that the Man in the Moon knew what the hell he was doing with this crazy-ass scheme of his. With that thought, Bunny raised his flask in a mocking salute to the scruffy reflection in the mirror of the shuttle's tiny washroom.

Here's hoping.


End file.
